


Deal

by Fabrisse



Category: Heroes - Fandom, Profit
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-15
Updated: 2007-08-15
Packaged: 2017-11-16 15:24:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/540941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fabrisse/pseuds/Fabrisse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having been mistaken for Nathan Petrelli, Jim Profit gets involved in the Heroes universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deal

**Author's Note:**

> My beta reader was Sandersyager. The story is for skripka.

_Emotion needs a focus. Love doesn't exist without something or someone to share it. Anger alone is useless. Focused, it can bring down any enemy. The key is knowing where to find the one little thing that will keep your enemy's attention._

He saw the dark van parked a half block to his right. It was a standard surveillance van, and he wondered what his boss had skimmed from this time to get the FBI interested.

The needle in his neck knocked him out quickly.

He wasn't certain when or where he woke up, but he was strapped down. A woman's voice was saying "Nathan, Nathan."

"Who's Nathan?" He said groggily. He willed himself to see the handsome older woman who'd been speaking to him.

"It never amused me when you tried to play stupid, Nathan."

He kept his control. "My name is Jim Profit. I work for Gracen and Gracen."

"The driver's license is very good, but did you think I wouldn't recognize my own son?" Her voice was sharp and dripped with contempt.

"You obviously haven't, ma'am. Have you checked my fingerprints?"

The woman looked behind him. Someone slipped a fingerprint touchpad under his hands and twisted his arm until his fingers met it.

"I suppose when this matches Nathan Petrelli, you'll demand a DNA test. And when it shows you're my son and the marker for flying -- what will you do to stall then, Nathan? Amnesia?" In the background a database was running a rapid matching program.

She turned to speak to the man lurking in the shadows behind her. All he heard were the names Peter and Gabriel.

"Mrs. P?" One of the underlings called quietly.

"Yes."

"The fingerprints don't match your son's military ones. They show no signs of unusual scarring or acid abrasion either."

"Find a database where this man does have matching fingerprints."

Profit suggested, "You could try Gracen and Gracen's employee database."

She looked over toward the computers. "Do it."

"Yes, ma'am."

This Mrs. Petrelli was not modulating her voice very well, and the man behind her grew more insistent.

Profit heard the phrase DNA used and tried to listen harder.

"But Mrs. P, he could have the gene, maybe with a different family of power. We have him. Let's keep him here."

"And tip our hand? Lower your voice, Gabriel."

"At the very least, we can't let him live. He's heard your name. He might tell someone."

Mrs. Petrelli walked over to the gurney where Profit was strapped down. "You're not going to say a thing are you? I don't think you were supposed to be where we found you. It's the weekend. You haven't even missed work."

"Who would I tell? I don't suppose you're planning to leave any evidence that could be traced."

Angela Petrelli assessed him. "You're a smart man."

Finally, the same man who'd run the earlier prints said, "The fingerprints match those of a James Profit."

"How long has he been working for that company?"

"Over fifteen years with a yearly employee photograph, ma'am."

"My apologies for the inconvenience, Mr. Profit. Please don't make us find you again. Gabriel might not give you back."

Profit really should have expected the needle in his neck.

***

_A famous philosopher once said, "Know your enemy." It's also important to be able to figure out who your friends are._

Nathan had been uncomfortable since he walked into the beautiful corner office. The man holding his hand out and ushering him to the sofa looked like Nathan would have, if he'd gone to Congress instead of becoming a winemaker. The resemblance was uncanny.

"It was good of you to see me, Mr. Petrelli"

Nathan hoped he hadn't flinched at the name he hadn't used in three years. He had a feeling that the man who spoke could be very dangerous. He couldn't afford to give anything away. "My name is Niccolo Palladini."

"Now it is. Three years ago, you were elected to Congress by a district that hadn't voted Republican since the Hoover administration. Before you could take your seat, you died. Or rather you didn't die. Currently, your wife is halfway through her first elected term after having served yours."

"It's a nice story Mr. Profit, but you've mistaken me for someone else." Nathan made to leave.

"I don't think I have. However, someone mistook me for you about three months ago. Fingerprints are very helpful, don't you think Mr. Pet-" the man gave a shark-like smile, "Palladini."

"They mistook you for this Mr. Petrelli. Maybe if they'd met me, they'd have made the same mistake." Actually Nathan didn't think so, the outdoor life had turned his skin dark brown. These days, he looked more like his Italian forebears than his patrician upbringing. This Mr. Profit could have been his twin three years ago, but now the differences in their lives kept them from seeming alike.

"Mr. Palladini, I want to help you. There are people who don't believe Nathan Petrelli is dead. Some of those people would like to see him buried -- death first would, I think, be optional for them."

Nathan knew his reaction gave the game away. He'd been so relaxed for the past couple of years, and now he was back in full paranoia. There were people at the winery who needed protection. And dear God, what if someone thought Heidi or his children knew. He met Profit's eyes and was surprised to find understanding there.

"I see you're no longer denying your name, Mr. Petrelli. And if you acknowledge it, then I can help you."

Full paranoia, Nathan thought could be a useful tool. "At what price, Mr. Profit?"

"Please, call me Jim."

Nathan acknowledged the gesture. "Nathan." He looked around the spacious office. "Are you taping this?"

"No. Gracen and Gracen will be making you a more public offer in about a week. It will probably be in this office, and I can guarantee you, wherever it is, that meeting will be taped. This is private."

"Why?"

"Because I was very intrigued by what I found in my research. Did you know that Gracen and Gracen had dealings with The Linderman Group?"

"No." It certainly explained how his doppelganger had found out so much about him in such a short time.

"They were very limited. Gracen and Gracen is a family company. The Linderman Group most decidedly is not. Do you know who inherited it after Mr. Linderman died?"

"My mother. It's one reason I haven't tried to contact anyone who might know me."

"Yet, you're living with several people who know you very well."

"Yes."

"And your brother is still in contact with your mother."

"They were always close. It makes sense they'd continue to see each other. Peter's protecting me by being available to her."

Jim Profit smiled again. Nathan wasn't sure he would get used to the sight. "You're wary. You have people to protect. Let me tell you what I know. I can assure you, it will never be shared with anyone else -- as long as we reach an agreement."

It took Nathan a minute to realize the man who was threatening him was asking permission. "Please, Jim. I'd like to hear what you have."

"I won't bore you with your childhood. Boarding school at 9, a younger brother at 10, and high school graduation at 16. You had your law degree at 20, which is difficult but not impossible at certain schools. However, you added a degree of difficulty by doing it while in an ROTC program. It's a tribute to your determination."

"Thank you."

"You were ambushed while in Rwanda doing a mission for the Judge Advocate's office. You resigned your commission on a 70% disability that within a year was reduced to a 25% disability. It was at the time of your death marked as a 5% disability. If you were still Nathan Petrelli, you might qualify for V.A. benefits. Is that why Congresswoman Petrelli works so hard for them?"

"I think her own experience in a wheelchair may inform her choices."

"Of course." Profit flipped through the file folder on the coffee table in front of him. "Skipping over your time in the D.A.'s office -- which you went to only after working for six years at a legal clinic, " the man sounded incredulous. "Your marriage, your children, we come to your father's death. Everything changes at that point."

"I rearranged my priorities. Death changes things."

"Especially a suicide. The note was fascinating. Did you know that most suicides don't leave one? They assume everyone knows why they chose to end their lives."

"Note?"

"Yes, unlike your poor brother Peter, your mother told you from the beginning it was suicide. She didn't show you the note."

It was a statement not a question, but Nathan felt compelled to respond. "No. I would assume she destroyed it."

Profit's face assumed an aura of helpfulness. "Many people her age don't understand about computers and how they hold data. I'm sure the original was destroyed, but I managed to find the computer it was typed on. The hard drive had not been degaussed before it was given to charity. Most of the note was still intact."

Nathan began to realize how much this man valued civility. "Would it be possible for me to read it, Jim?"

The smile was no less unnerving for being more genuine. "This entire file is yours to take with you. I have another copy."

"Thank you. I look forward to reading it later." Nathan was lying through his teeth. He wanted to flee from this cold, elegant office and fly home to his vineyards.

"Your wife's accident, your father's death, and the FBI convincing a Democratic incumbent with a scandal to stay in the race which might let you have his seat, if you could win it, all put you in a position to take out The Linderman Group. You don't seem to be the type of man who fails often."

"Sometimes it's luck, but, like you I suspect, I value careful planning." That seemed to please Profit.

"The death of the FBI agents was the final complication. You couldn't pursue Linderman so you let him finance your landslide. Do you know how he did it?"

"No. But I was four points behind in the polls on election day, I won with nearly 75% of the vote in my district. New Yorkers are notorious for playing with pollsters and trying to skew their data, but that was too much to be real."

The smile this time was tight. "Don't lie to me again, Nathan. I want to help you. We can have a useful relationship."

Nathan's back went stiff. "You have an excellent bullshit detector."

"And you're an excellent liar. Everything you said was true, except the word 'no.'"

Two photographs of Micah one around the time when Nathan first met him and one going into school sometime within the past month were placed in front of Nathan. "One of the people at your winery is very handy with computers."

"Yes." Nathan didn't trust himself to say more. He looked at all the space left on the coffee table. There was no doubt in his mind more photographs would be filling it.

"Good. I think we can have a long and fruitful relationship."

***

The first part of the meeting lasted two hours. Jim Profit knew everything about Nathan and the people around him -- from the places in Europe where Nathan hid while researching wine, to the fact that he and Noah Bennet argued about Claire's college choices.

When the litany of explanation came to an end, it was with a picture of him kissing Peter outside the hospital where he worked. "It's strange, isn't it, that the thing most people are likely to judge you for is whom you love. I find it quite touching that love and family mean so much to you."

"Since you know he's my brother, I'll assume that's sarcastic." Nathan was grim, he still had no idea what Profit wanted.

"My stepmother and I are also close. She's given up her other vices -- alcohol, cigarettes, heroin. Sex is a basic human need, and I believe in giving Mom what she needs so she doesn't revert to her unhealthier outlets."

Nathan blinked while he processed that.

Profit continued, "Of course I once called her, accurately, a drug-guzzling gutterslut, so it's not exactly the passionate romance you and your brother share."

"I won't try to lie to you, but I don't understand what you want from me. And I need to understand before I make any decisions. You already know that I have about twenty people living and working at the vineyard. Protecting them is my top priority."

"Yes, they should be protected. It's good to see a man value his family properly." Profit flipped a switch on the table. "Jon, will you please bring lunch in for Mr. Palladini and myself."

They spoke of politics and Congresswoman Petrelli's rise to prominence while a simple salad and risotto were brought in and put on a table in the corner. When his assistant left, Profit motioned Nathan over. "I hope it's the right temperature. Jon may not have wanted to interrupt us."

It was delicious. Nathan was pleased to see one of his more robust whites served with it.

"Gracen and Gracen's offer to you will be to lend you some more investment money for real estate. Several years ago, we had a scandal with baby food. Now we own the leading organic brand in the world. Organic food has peaked for the moment, but organic wines are just beginning to make a serious dent in the market. Your wines are all from certified land with certified practices. Why isn't it part of your marketing strategy to call them organic?"

Nathan answered carefully. "It's still a niche market. If I put organic on the label, fewer stores want my product. In a couple of years, when the vineyard has been judged on the competition circuit, assuming we make a good impression, I can afford to push my prices up. Slapping the organic label on the wines then will add to their cachet. Right now, cachet won't let me break even."

Profit nodded. "The reasoning is sound, but, I believe flawed. Gracen and Gracen would like your vineyard to be the next step in cornering the organics market. We're ready to diversify, and you need the capital."

"And the deal would be?"

"The offer is going to be hard-nosed with us taking a controlling interest in your business in return for eighteen million dollars invested over a three year period. Don't take this offer."

"I thought you said..."

"Hold out, suggest fifteen million and you retain fifty-one percent of the voting stock. Their counter offer will come back, but I can guarantee you that within six weeks, we'll come back to you with an offer of twelve million over six years with you retaining control of the company."

"It sounds like a good investment for your company and twelve million spread out over the next few years will get us through without compromising. What exactly do you need, Jim?"

"Time. I want the deal to go through, but I need it timed correctly. It must take at least four weeks to go through the process."

"That's easy enough. I can pull out every lawyer's trick I know. If I start haggling on the international rights, that could keep things simmering for awhile."

"I'll make certain that section is omitted from the original offer."

Nathan wondered how he'd do it, and then decided he didn't really want to know. "Why did you need to show me that file to make this deal?"

"What's your ability?"

Nathan did a double take, and Profit continued. "Your daughter can heal from anything that leaves her brain intact. Three years ago, Niki was caught on tape ripping a parking meter out of the pavement at Kirby Plaza. Nearly immediately after this the picture begins to go fuzzy, and then there's no picture at all. That was true of every security camera in the plaza. What can you do?"

"Fly."

"Does your brother have any abilities?"

"Besides the ability to irritate me?" Nathan's smile warmed the room. "He can fly too."

"Is that all?"

Nathan saw another knife-edge moment. He flipped a mental coin and decided it was better not to dance around, "His abilities are unstable. He acquires the talents of the people he's around, but, even with regular practice, his ability to use them is dependent on emotional factors. Flying he can do without effort now. So I think of it as his primary ability."

Profit seemed pleased with his frankness like something had slotted into place. "I want three things from you. The first is personal access to the notes of Mohinder Suresh. I know that you can't guarantee that without his consent, but I trust you'll do everything in your power to make him see reason."

"Mohinder will want to know if he can trust you. Since this is our first time dealing together, I'll need something that proves I can."

"Will a recommendation be sufficient? The new junior vice president for administration is a woman named Gail Koner. She will tell you that I deal fairly with anyone I find to be worthwhile."

Nathan contemplated the ramifications of a blackmailer with references. "Yes, that should be more than sufficient. Especially if she's willing to repeat it to Mohinder directly."

"It can be arranged. It occurs to me that Dr. Suresh might want to keep his notes private with an eye to later publication. Perhaps he would let me send him DNA samples to see if they display the evolutionary leap instead."

"He'll want to know what you'll use the information for."

"Let it suffice that I don't see any advantage to splitting up families or dividing the country with internment camps. Gracen and Gracen is about making the world a better place through family."

"That's interesting." Nathan assessed the man in front of him. "I'll do my best to persuade Mohinder. Right now, I think the second possibility is more likely. Would you be willing to let us keep the information on the ones who have the genetic marker?"

"I may make a few exceptions, but generally that would be fine. Can Dr. Suresh tell what ability someone has from a DNA sample?"

Nathan shook his head. "The detection methods have improved. He can tell what family of ability it is -- there are several variations on healing, for instance, but they all appear near each other on the helix. Or something like that -- Mohinder's explanations occasionally lose me."

"It's a shame he can't be more specific. Would you object if I made a personal investment in Dr. Suresh's research? Perhaps he could refine his techniques."

"I'll certainly tell him you made the offer. I think he'll accept." Nathan felt everything to this point had been choreographed, but there was a break in the conversation that felt unplanned.

"Is there an average age?" Profit didn't seem as comfortable off script.

"For abilities to manifest?" Nathan wanted to be certain of the question.

"Yes."

"Mohinder could probably tell you. It seems to be stress related. My brother's not the only one for whom emotion plays a part."

"What's the oldest someone has first manifested an ability?"

"Well, Noah Bennet claims to be shocked that I used mine for the first time when I was thirty six. The oldest his former employers had on record was twenty-eight. Matt Parkman was over thirty when he started too. The ones who've inherited the gene from both parents, like Micah and Molly, usually start young, but it's not guaranteed."

Profit nodded.

"Are you hoping you are or you aren't one of us?"

"Aren't. My plans would need to be significantly altered if I were... unusual."

There was a lull.

"So, Jim, what's the next condition?"

"Occasionally, I may need to find someone. Young Miss Walker's ability could be useful to me. Actually, I can see times when all the abilities you protect could be useful to me. I can promise that I would not use the minors more than an hour or two a week -- probably much less than that."

"Frankly, you'll have more trouble talking Mohinder into letting you use Molly than you would his notes. And be careful with Niki, she's extremely protective of Micah."

"I see. Will an edited version of this file help them make up their minds?"

"Maybe. Look, both the things you want are things I can't promise. Why didn't you call Mohinder? Or ask to come to the vineyard? You could have spoken to all of us."

Profit looked straight at Nathan. "It didn't seem prudent to speak to a group of people with extraordinary abilities on their own turf."

"But why me?"

"Mostly because being mistaken for you piqued my curiosity. In examining every aspect, you have the most to lose. And you're a decision maker. You've played your hand very closely today. For instance, you haven't asked me what I'm offering you."

"I admit I'm curious." Nathan could feel his lips twitch into something resembling his old smile.

"I think all your lives would be much easier if Gabriel Gray didn't find you."

Nathan went white and listened very carefully.

***

"I told Profit I needed to talk to you before giving my final answer." Nathan was stretched out on their bed with Peter.

"So Sylar wants to find us. He's wanted to find Claire and me ever since New York didn't blow up. It's not new."

"Pete, he's working for Ma. And Profit says he's getting closer to us."

Peter propped himself on his elbow and looked at his brother.

"Do you believe him?"

"He's a blackmailer who can give a good reference. I don't know what to believe. But I do think that as long as our interests intersect, we can trust him."

"What's been decided?"

"Mohinder is fine with DNA testing for Mr. Profit. I was shocked. He didn't even ask what would happen with the results."

"He's not as innocent as he once was. None of us are."

Nathan reached up and stroked his brother's face. "I'll need to call everyone together to talk about his second requirement. And make no mistake, Profit's polite, but it's a requirement."

"Set Niki on him. He'll see reason." Peter smirked.

"He won't ask us to kill. Nothing any of us does will be directly harmful or illegal. I had to bargain with him for awhile to get him to see reason; people in hiding need to remain hidden. But we can't have any illusions that the little things we do for him might not have serious consequences. I once said that I looked like a shark to the voters, but I was warm and fuzzy compared to this guy."

"What are you trying not to tell me?"

"He has a thing about family. Protecting it. That's how I got him to understand."

"I repeat my question."

"His third condition."

***

"It's not that I haven't had offers, but I've never had a need to accept the offers or seduce a man."

Nathan's eyebrows had reached his hairline. "So you want me to teach you how to ..."

"Fuck a man, or possibly get fucked, I'm not certain of the gentleman's predilections. I do know that, while he might occasionally enjoy corrupting the innocent, he won't see me in that light. I have to approach this person as an experienced player."

"Why me?"

"I know you are a practicing bisexual so you'll be able to put things into terms I understand if necessary. And I admit I find you attractive."

In its own way, that admission shocked Nathan most. "We're practically twins."

Jim Profit smiled at his comprehension. "Are you telling me that you didn't calculate exactly how to use your looks to win votes? I'm sure you're aware that you're ... we're attractive."

"And if I manage all three of these things..."

"I will make certain that Gabriel Gray, or, if you prefer, Sylar can never bother you or anyone around you again. It won't make you safe. Nothing can. But you'll be immeasurably safeer. You have until Wednesday to make up your mind. I know you'll have several people to consult."

Nathan nodded. "I do. Shall I let you know my progress or only call when I can answer all three?"

"Here's my card." Profit pulled out a pen and wrote on the back. "This is a private number. Use it. If you need me or Gail to come down to help you with your persuasions, don't hesitate. And, yes, I think progress reports are the better way to go."

Nathan was clearly being dismissed. He took the proffered hand and shook.

Outside the Gracen and Gracen building, he checked his watch. Peter would be coming off duty soon, so he pulled out his phone and called. Maybe they could ride home together.

***

"So you're asking if I'm okay with it?"

Nathan looked away. "Basically."

"Does this guy turn you on?"

"Pete, in most ways he makes my balls try to climb back into my body. But yes, I can acknowledge that he's attractive. I don't think I'll have any problems. It feels more like a sophisticated form of masturbation than anything else."

"And if I have a problem with it."

"Then I tell Mr. Profit no. And we sell the vineyard and get the hell out as quickly as possible. I believe his evidence about Sylar getting close. Plus, I think Profit could be a formidable enemy, and he's not stupid enough to do something where we can get to him."

"I've seen Ma. I know she's looking for you, and I know you're right not to let her know you're alive -- for Heidi's and the kids' sake -- but the idea that she's working with Sylar... I can't see it."

"I know, Pete."

"And this condition bothers me, Nathan. I don't want to imagine you in someone else's bed. But I understand that we're over a barrel."

Nathan nodded. "It's only one night."

Peter kissed his cheek and whispered into his ear. "I find I'm very jealous when it comes to you. So I'm going to say no, he can't have you."

Nathan kissed him deeply. "I'll call the realtor tomorrow morning, first thing."

"Let me finish. I won't let him have you, but I don't mind if we share him. We've done it before, just never with another guy."

"You want to be there?"

Peter looked angelic. "I want to fulfill my twins fantasy."

Nathan pulled him into a kiss. "One of me isn't enough for you?"

"I want the complete set. Now stop thinking." He teased Nathan's nipple with his tongue. "You can call him tomorrow."

***

Nathan met Chas Gracen for lunch at Gracen and Gracen. The offer Profit promised was made almost exactly as he described. Nathan took a quick look at the papers. Profit had been as good as his word. The international section of the proposal was lacking. He could definitely drag out the negotiations for four weeks.

That evening, Profit met Nathan for dinner at his hotel.

"You did well today, Nathan. May I ask about the other aspects of our agreement?"

Nathan pushed an envelope across the table. "These are the results of the DNA test you gave me last week." He remembered sitting in Profit's office watching him swab his own cheek. "Mohinder is prepared to run up to twenty a week. He said he can't do more with his current equipment."

"I won't need anywhere near twenty a week, but I'm happy Dr. Suresh knows what his limitations are."

"The second condition was the most difficult, as you can imagine. My caveats made the suggestion palatable, and every adult is prepared to help you. Peter has the least free time of all of us as he's working regular hospital shifts."

"I noticed that you limited the scope to the adults."

Nathan took a deep breath. "Yes. Mohinder is worried about Molly. Her ability tires her and may be linked to a blood disease that can limit her or kill her. Even a couple of hours a week could harm hurt Molly. Peter came up with a solution -- use Molly in the extreme cases when you need an answer immediately -- say, a maximum of two hours a month. As with the rest of us, Peter's absorbed her power, he just lacks the fine control and the quickness."

"So he's suggesting that I call on him for anything where I have lead time."

"Essentially. It benefits him because he has a chance to practice. That could lead to greater speed which would ultimately benefit you."

"And Micah."

"Niki offered to show you your spine for suggesting it."

Profit's eyes went wide. "I hope you discouraged her from anything so crude."

"Let me explain our worry. Peter has absorbed Micah's power, but he's useless with it. Sure he can talk to the machines, but Peter doesn't understand computers well enough to know what to say. Micah is truly remarkable, a genius. Which means he'll understand both that he's being used and ultimately what he and his powers are being used for. You told me the other day that I keep my cards close to my vest. You hold yours so tightly I can't even see them. Micah will, to belabor the metaphor, be able to read your hand."

"I see."

"While Niki's not thrilled about the prospect, she came with me to talk to Micah. He's willing to help you, and Niki's willing to allow it, as long as it's only occasionally. Micah thinks learning more about business would be cool. But we don't want to worry that his knowledge could cause you problems." Nathan hoped his face didn't betray him. He didn't doubt that the very polite man across the table would remove any obstacle he met. And no one wanted Micah to become an obstacle.

"It's an interesting dilemma. I would have to choose my projects carefully."

Nathan nodded. "Exactly. We aren't rejecting the second condition, but we want you to understand the implications." With luck, Nathan thought, he didn't look too relieved.

"Can Micah come to my office on the Martin Luther King holiday? I'll have an hour or so of work for him in the afternoon. There's a hockey game that night, if you would like to go."

"He has the day off from school. It can be arranged."

The unnerving smile was back. "Good. It's always nice when people cooperate. Life becomes so much easier."

"If you don't have other plans this evening, my brother and I would be happy to fulfill condition three."

"I look forward to meeting your brother."

***

Peter looked around the hotel dining room and saw Nathan, and then did a double take. Nathan must be the man with his back toward Peter, because the man he was looking at was too cold to be his brother.

***

The "we can share him" part of the discussion went on much longer than either of them would have imagined possible.

Kissing led to touching led to Nathan trying to suck Peter's soul out through his dick. Peter, who was usually a gentle lover, wasn't gentle when he'd thrust hard into Nathan's mouth, fucking his face with intent. When Nathan had him on the knife-edge just before orgasm, he pulled Nathan's hair hard, pulled him off and ran a thumbnail over the swollen lower lip, "Mine. Your filthy, sexy mouth is mine. Touch him, fuck him, but this is mine."

Nathan heard the quiet menace in Peter's voice and had to start doing the vineyard's books in his head to keep from coming. He reached up and pulled Peter into a long heated kiss, when he let go, he bent his head back toward Peter's weeping cock. Nathan sucked greedily finding the rhythm quickly and when he felt that first twitch of orgasm, pulled back hard so Peter could come on his tongue, so he could taste every drop.

Later, Nathan had his own moment of gentler possessiveness. He was rocking into Peter's body, Peter's legs wrapped tightly around his waist, their sweat mingling and lips clashing in long sweet kisses. Nathan leaned forward shortening his stroke, trapping Peter's cock between their writhing bodies. He whispered in a nearly broken voice, "Don't offer him this. Let this be mine, please Peter." The litany of please went on until he felt Peter tighten around him and heard Peter's answering moan of "yours just yours." Nathan came so hard his vision grayed.

***

Nathan had taken lovers to numerous hotel rooms in his time. Hotel rooms were convenient when he was single and didn't want to share too much of his life with a simple pick-up. Taking Jim Profit to his room, knowing Peter was waiting for him, felt very different.

Going into the room together seeing Peter look between them made his heart clench. He was suddenly aware of Jim Profit's gym-toned body and what the contrast must be with his own work-hardened one. Somehow after a day out on the land, the gym seemed to be the farthest thing from his mind.

Peter saw his brother panic just a little and walked over and kissed him. It was a long, loving kiss, and he explored Nathan's mouth with his tongue until he felt Nathan relax and the panic ease.

"We mustn't neglect our guest." Peter's eyes were filled with amusement.

"No. We mustn't. Peter, this is Jim Profit. His firm will help us keep the vineyard solvent until our reds can compete. And he'll be part of our lives for quite awhile, I think. Jim, this is my brother, Peter."

"Thank you for inviting me." Peter was surprised at his reaction to the voice sounding so similar to Nathan's. He was already half hard from the kiss, but the smoothness of tones, the gentle insinuation in the voice had him stiff. One night might be immeasurably more dangerous than he thought.

He shook the hand Profit extended. "I'm glad you were all right with my being here."

"I have no interest in harming your rather remarkable relationship with your brother. If this helps you both, then I'm glad to have two instructors."

Nathan said, "Right."

***

The gym-toned body Nathan had noticed was strong. Profit was an inventive lover and a quick study. When Nathan pushed Peter down on the bed, he gave Profit a thorough demonstration of how to give a good blowjob with special attention to the question of spit, swallow, or spill. Profit immediately had Nathan on his back and demonstrated how well he'd paid attention.

Peter turned him over and explained to Profit how to prepare, how to tease, how to enter and ease his way into Nathan's body. Peter demonstrated a stroke or two, and then pulled out and let Profit have his turn. They took turns pounding into Nathan, building him to the edge and then easing him back. When Nathan finally came, it was a relief as much as a release.

When they'd all rested, Nathan taught Profit what it felt like on the receiving end. Profit howled with pleasure when Peter sucked him while Nathan fucked him.

A little later, Peter went into the bathroom and had a long hot bath. He curled into Nathan's side and whispered, "You needed me here."

Nathan pulled him close and kissed his temple. "Always."

***

Nathan looked at the clock by the bed. It wasn't quite four a.m. but he heard the rustling of Profit picking up his clothes and heading to the bathroom. Nathan gave him a minute to take care of anything and went after him when he heard the shower come on.

"You're welcome to share the shower with me, Nathan, but I'm not certain Peter would approve."

"As long as all we do is get clean, he won't care."

Profit raised an eyebrow. "And why did you feel the need to get clean with me rather than wait until I'd gone?"

"Is this enough? Are you confident that you have what you need to seduce... this man?"

"My face, our face, will get me in his door. My lack of powers will keep me relatively safe. And yes, between you and Peter, I've experienced and learned everything I need."

"I'm glad."

"I may have a couple of questions for you about sexual context, but nothing you can't answer on the phone. I won't need a hands-on demonstration."

"I'm glad of that too."

Profit gauged his next remark carefully. "Your brother's power isn't absorbing other people's powers. If that were all, he wouldn't have had such a visceral reaction to me. I turned him on because I looked like you, but by the end of the night he was ready to sleep in the bathtub to get away from me."

"Peter often has a bath after sex. I like the sweat and the smell of sex on my skin, but he likes to feel clean. We compromise."

"His power is empathy. It's not that empathy let's him absorb powers from others like you. The empathy itself is his power."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because as long as you think otherwise, he's dangerous to you and your new family."

Nathan moved without thinking and pinned Profit by his neck to the wall of the shower. "I won't send him away or tell him he's unwelcome."

"I'm not fighting you, Nathan." The simple words calmed Nathan enough that he eased back.

Profit took a step away. "I'll forgive you because I didn't make myself clear. His empathy is dangerous because he continues to see your mother. If she can convince him emotionally that she needs to see you, he'll give you to her. He won't for a minute wonder about the whys, he won't think through the reasoning. He'll just call you and say that you need to come to him."

"He's had three years to do it. It hasn't happened yet."

"Your mother hasn't convinced him there's a need. She hasn't worked out the right emotional appeal."

"And what if he does, I'll come to him. I'll see Ma. I'll come home." Nathan didn't sound convincing even to himself.

"Your mother has promised Mr. Gray that, in return for sparing Peter, he can have every other 'special' that they find. I think that includes you."

Nathan felt the water running down his spine. Profit's conclusions didn't surprise him as much as they should. "It probably doesn't for two reasons. She can't control Peter if I'm dead. And she'll need me to get the others to her."

"And what happens if Peter finds out what the bargain is between them? I think he'd offer himself and his power to absorb to Mr. Gray to let the rest of you live."

"But you said you don't think that's his power."

"It isn't. Peter can't use Micah's power you said, or not well, because he lacks the fundamental understanding of computers. Gabriel Gray can't use Peter's power because he lacks the fundamental understanding of people. Peter would willingly make the sacrifice, but it wouldn't protect anyone."

"You do understand people, don't you, Jim."

Profit gave a non-committal nod and then grabbed the back of Nathan's neck. The kiss was long and tender. "I've wondered all evening. I hope that didn't violate your agreement with your brother."

Nathan didn't even wonder how Profit had figured out Peter's and Nathan's agreements. "I don't think so, but I'll tell him it happened in any case."

They stepped out to the shower and dried off. Profit began to dress.

"If any of the people at the vineyard need other types of work, maybe something more lucrative, send me their resumes. I can't guarantee anything, but we always have positions open at Gracen and Gracen. Perhaps your Niki would like to work in security."

"She might at that. Good night, Jim." Nathan wandered back to bed.

Peter was awake. He kissed Nathan's shoulder before getting out and wandering toward the bathroom.

Profit had just finished shaving when Peter walked in. Their eyes met in the mirror. "Peter."

The shirt was slipped on and he'd begun tying his tie when Peter finally acknowledged him. "Do you need me to find him?" There was no need to ask who.

"There's a map in my briefcase. I'll leave it for you. I want you to call me when he's in Las Vegas. Then I'll want you to call me every day while he remains in Las Vegas. After that, I won't ask you about him again."

"I'm helping you kill him."

"He'd kill you and everyone you love. Don't you think he should die before he can?"

"I think everyone deserves a chance. He could choose not to kill."

Profit looked at Peter like a specimen on a slide. "He could. Your brother could have packed everyone up and left the state or the country rather than deal with me. He didn't because I convinced him I wasn't the real danger. I'm not. I only want to help your family and develop a mutually beneficial relationship. Sylar will have a choice. I have no objection to a mutually beneficial relationship with him, too."

"Choice is important to me. Nathan nearly did cut and run when I told him I was jealous. He's a remarkable man."

"Devoted certainly."

Profit had finished dressing, and they both exited the bathroom. When they got to his briefcase, Profit stopped and took out the map.

Peter opened it, his hand hovered as he remembered how he felt around Molly. It stopped in the middle of the map, and Peter looked for a moment. "Saint Louis." Then he leaned forward and kissed Jim Profit goodbye.

Nathan opened his eyes when Peter climbed back into bed. "He turned you on, Pete."

Peter's crooked smile nearly lit up the room. "You turn me on. He looks like you. He looks like you did when life was easier. I got lost in that for a little while."

Nathan nodded.

"Listen to me. I'm sorry if I let you down at all. I wasn't expecting how close the resemblance was. But Nathan, it took less than half an hour to realize I love you and no matter how much he looks like you -- you're very different people."

"He kissed me in the shower. I enjoyed it."

Peter gave him a crooked smile. "It's okay."

"Good." Nathan began to roll away from Peter like he was going to sleep. Peter pulled his shoulder and sat up to look him in the eye.

"It was his hands." Nathan remembered how hot it had been to watch Peter suck on Profit's fingers.

"They turned you on."

"No, Nathan. It was his hands that told me he wasn't you, could never be a man like you. His hands were soft and smooth. But even when yours were manicured and pampered, they were never dilettante's hands." Peter took both Nathan's hands in his and kissed their palms. "Your hands have held a baby and flown planes. Now they're calloused, but they can cradle a young bunch of grapes without bruising them before they ripen. They've held Molly's hair when she's been sick and soothed Niki. His hands could never touch me the way yours do."

Nathan stroked his way down Peter's body and across his chest. Peter lay down beside him and began to kiss him. "Nathan, tell me you requested late check-out."

***

He'd done all his research before coming here. The most important thing he'd found was that Gabriel Gray couldn't access his prophetic drawing these days without heroin.

He knocked on the door in front of him. "Mr. Gray, we haven't met but I believe you know of me. My name's Jim Profit."

"Most people call me Sylar these days." He stepped away from the door, and Profit walked through it.

Two days later there were two separate unrelated articles in the Las Vegas newspaper. One was a small blurb about a heroin junkie's death. The other was a large story on the front page of the business section about the unexpected suicide of Angela Petrelli. Her assistant had found her with a spilled cup of tea. It was apparently an overdose of the same heart medication her late husband had taken. Speculation was rife about the changes that would come to the Linderman Group when her son Peter claimed his inheritance.

_Never make an enemy unnecessarily. Having made an enemy, keep your focus on him until he's no longer a threat. Distraction can kill. Goodnight._


End file.
